


Gifts

by Xiaojian



Series: Castlevania Week [6]
Category: Castlevania: Lords of Shadow, 悪魔城ドラキュラ | Castlevania Series
Genre: Daddy Issues, Family, Gen, Satan is a terrible dad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-03
Updated: 2016-10-03
Packaged: 2018-08-19 05:50:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8192563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xiaojian/pseuds/Xiaojian
Summary: The only human desire an acolyte allows himself to have is desperation for his father's love.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written for day 6 of Castlevania Week.

They were not a family. They never had been. Even leaving aside the fact that they were all born from different wombs, the children of Satan held no camaraderie among one another. Because Satan was not their father, not in the traditional sense. They bore his blood, his power, and his pride, but he had not raised them. Nor did he hold any love for them. Not yet.

The lord of Hell had made it abundantly clear: Blood relation meant nothing to him, but proof of skill was everything. If they could carry out their master’s wishes to his satisfaction, he could find it in himself to shower favor upon them.

And Satan had never wished for anything more than he wished to have the Dragon helpless at his feet.

Nergal had heard whispers of his half-sister’s fate. How pathetic. Killed by her own incompetence, and by a weakened Dracula, to add salt to her wounds. He was glad to see her go. She’d always been too confident, with too little intelligence or skill to back it up.

And his good luck just kept going. Here the little Dragon had crawled out of his hole, and right to his front doorstep. How kind of him to save Nergal the effort of tracking him down.

His contempt for Raisa only grew when he witnessed firsthand how utterly incompetent the Dragon was. Taken down by just a few bolts of his lightning. Pathetic.

He lifted the poor excuse for a vampire by his neck and spat in his face. An almost childish glee filled him as the fight went out of Dracula’s eyes. He knew he’d been beaten the moment he stepped foot in his tower.

“Hear me, beloved father! Open the gates of Hell, for I have a gift for thee!”

-

His father had not come out of his circle of Hell for weeks. It was to be expected, to an extent. Nergal had delivered him such a perfect toy to play with. But he was growing impatient. He had not heard even a word of thanks for his accomplishment.

He dropped everything in the mortal realm when he was finally summoned to his father’s throne room.

It was a room befitting of its master. Its elaborate tapestries and decorations were worn down by endless centuries of aging, but its foundations were stronger than anything a mortal could hope to set foot on in their tiny lives. And with every step Nergal took on the freezing cold stone, he felt his father’s power thrum through his feet.

Satan was lounging in his throne, careless and regal at once. Nergal had once been baffled by his distaste for clothing, but as he matured, it made perfect sense. Mortals, the imperfect beings they were, had an inherent desperation to cover up their deformities. Angels, fallen or otherwise, had no need for such nonsense.

Nergal bowed before him. It was best to be formal, for now. Hopefully, it would make being given permission to do otherwise all the more sweet. “My lord.”

Satan made a noncommittal noise. “Yes, what was your name again?”

Nergal faltered. He didn’t have that many children, and they’d spoken many times before. He would have thought his father could at least remember his name.

He shook himself out of being upset. Satan had many more important things to occupy his mind. “I am Nergal - ”

“Ah, yes. The sorcerer one. I remember you now.”

Well, that was a relief.

“You’ve done well.” Finally, _finally_ , his father smiled, the action pulling at the deep furrows in his face.

“It was nothing, father.” Nergal bowed his head to hide his own smile.

“You’re right. It was nothing.”

He looked up, frowning. Satan was still smiling, but it looked more amused than pleased.

“I beg your pardon?”

“What did you do, really?” 

“I - I delivered your target to you - ”

“The bastard came to you himself. You slapped him with some magic and then let me swoop in and do all the work.”

Sweat had formed on the back of Nergal’s neck. “I thought you’d want to torture him yourself, my lord.”

Satan waved his hand. “I’m not angry, but I’m not pleased, either. You can do better.”

“I - I will, my lord.”

“The mortal world still lives in peace. Prove your worth to me and fix that.”

Nergal kept his face blank as he left with promises to do exactly that. He wanted to cry. And as soon as he returned to the mortal realm, he ripped off his protections and shocked himself for the weakness he showed by even thinking something so human.


End file.
